That's the night that the lights went out...for my ankle.
I don't remember much from the moment. I remember feeling frustrated that our team was being destroyed on the kickball field. (Intramural kickball mind you.) I remember being upset that we were launching a new season of kickball, a remix season, a chance to meet new people and step out of our comfort zones, and I felt our team was lacking some heavy hitters compared to the other teams. I remember stepping up to kick and running to second and thinking I had a chance to make it to third base. It was while I was running to third base that the third baseman was thrown the ball but didn't have control of it and I figured sliding into third was my best option.
Looking back, I can't help but have some feelings of self-guilt and blame myself. I know that's irrational and I get nowhere playing the blame game. But if I hadn't been gunning for third and just stopped on second base, life would look totally different today.
You see, it was when I was sliding into third that something went awry and I felt my ankle break. My right ankle. I can't remember specifically how it happened or whether I had to move my right leg out from under my body but I remember laying in the dirt and staring at my right ankle and seeing it popped out.
The thing about our Stonewall community is, we're STRONG. Resilient people. Within seconds I had ice, a small crowd around me, people supporting me, calls made, and an ambulance on the way. When shit gets real, people show up for you. I spent two hours in the ER before I was sent home with instructions to meet an orthopedic surgeon on Monday. I am filled with gratitude for Aaron who was at my side from the moment it happened until Monday morning and hope one day in some small way I can return the favor.
The prognosis: Right ankle is broken on the right side with a compound fracture/dislocation on the left side. Need surgery. Eventually a boot. I won't be able to apply any pressure to my right ankle for 4 weeks post surgery (5 post accident). Eventually I will be able to walk on it and within 3 months I should be able to do some light cardio. Just in time for Christmas. No driving for the foreseeable future and my social life will revolve around people hanging in my condo vs me hitting the town.
The rest of Sunday into Monday is somewhat a blur. I cried a lot. Anger. Frustration. Disappointment. Anxiety. Fear. Restlessness. Grief. My community reached out by the masses offering support. It's a non life-threatening injury. An ankle. And yet it throws my entire world upside down. I can barely move. I won't be able to drive for a long time. How will I get to work? Do I stay in my condo? What about the basics like laundry? groceries? cleaning my apartment? What about the basic basics like showering? making food? functioning? Do I stay in my 3rd floor condo with no elevator? Do I stay with my parents? What do I need? Will I feel an additional sense of loss of independence leaving my home?
And then there's my mental state. Fitness fuels me. I'm an active guy. I was ready to play both dodgeball and kickball this season, stay active with November Project, and regularly hit the gym. I know in time I'll be able to do upper body activities in the gym but man, being sidelined is a gut punch. And a really tough pill to swallow.
I know it'll be a long road to recovery. I know I need to give myself grace. I know I need to ask for and accept help from those around me. I'm a giver and struggle in the receiving/taking state but know it's what I will need. Deep breaths. One day at a time. Patience. Grace. Gratitude.
Looking back, I can't help but have some feelings of self-guilt and blame myself. I know that's irrational and I get nowhere playing the blame game. But if I hadn't been gunning for third and just stopped on second base, life would look totally different today.
You see, it was when I was sliding into third that something went awry and I felt my ankle break. My right ankle. I can't remember specifically how it happened or whether I had to move my right leg out from under my body but I remember laying in the dirt and staring at my right ankle and seeing it popped out.
The thing about our Stonewall community is, we're STRONG. Resilient people. Within seconds I had ice, a small crowd around me, people supporting me, calls made, and an ambulance on the way. When shit gets real, people show up for you. I spent two hours in the ER before I was sent home with instructions to meet an orthopedic surgeon on Monday. I am filled with gratitude for Aaron who was at my side from the moment it happened until Monday morning and hope one day in some small way I can return the favor.
The prognosis: Right ankle is broken on the right side with a compound fracture/dislocation on the left side. Need surgery. Eventually a boot. I won't be able to apply any pressure to my right ankle for 4 weeks post surgery (5 post accident). Eventually I will be able to walk on it and within 3 months I should be able to do some light cardio. Just in time for Christmas. No driving for the foreseeable future and my social life will revolve around people hanging in my condo vs me hitting the town.
The rest of Sunday into Monday is somewhat a blur. I cried a lot. Anger. Frustration. Disappointment. Anxiety. Fear. Restlessness. Grief. My community reached out by the masses offering support. It's a non life-threatening injury. An ankle. And yet it throws my entire world upside down. I can barely move. I won't be able to drive for a long time. How will I get to work? Do I stay in my condo? What about the basics like laundry? groceries? cleaning my apartment? What about the basic basics like showering? making food? functioning? Do I stay in my 3rd floor condo with no elevator? Do I stay with my parents? What do I need? Will I feel an additional sense of loss of independence leaving my home?
And then there's my mental state. Fitness fuels me. I'm an active guy. I was ready to play both dodgeball and kickball this season, stay active with November Project, and regularly hit the gym. I know in time I'll be able to do upper body activities in the gym but man, being sidelined is a gut punch. And a really tough pill to swallow.
I know it'll be a long road to recovery. I know I need to give myself grace. I know I need to ask for and accept help from those around me. I'm a giver and struggle in the receiving/taking state but know it's what I will need. Deep breaths. One day at a time. Patience. Grace. Gratitude.
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